


eye of the beholder

by thirty2flavors



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: (sort of) fake relationship, Comedy, Gen, Prompt Fic, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirty2flavors/pseuds/thirty2flavors
Summary: "You just told an entire group counselling session that what first attracted you to me was that I had skin.” He leaned down to her height as though it might help him impress upon her the full severity of the situation. “Like aserial killer.”





	eye of the beholder

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fic for an anon on Tumblr: Rhys & Fiona + "You're never going to let this go, are you?"
> 
> A truncated version of the Rhys/Fiona fake relationship fic I long to write but likely never will. Appreciative shout-out to Sweet Dee Reynolds.

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Uh, no. No, I’m not. I am going to bring it up every day, and tell everyone about it, because it is insane.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“ _I’m_ being ridiculous?” Rhys placed an indignant metal hand on his puffed-up chest, which, in Fiona’s opinion, only furthered her case.

“Yes. As always. A big, ridiculous baby. You know it’s fake, right? A con? You get that?”

“That’s not the point!”

“That’s exactly the point.”

“No, the point is: you just told an entire group counselling session that what first attracted you to me was that I _had skin_.” He leaned down to her height as though it might help him impress upon her the full severity of the situation. “Like a _serial killer_.”

Fiona was unbothered. “It was a hard question.” She smirked. “I was working with limited source material.”

“Limited… really?” Rhys huffed. “Someone says, ‘Fiona, what was the first thing you noticed about your husband?’, and you couldn’t think of anything more normal to say?” He gestured broadly to himself, trying to encompass the cybernetics and the tattoos and the stupid hair in one fell swoop. “Not a single notable physical trait that might sound less creepy than my _skin_?” 

“Mmm…” Fiona pretended to consider it, pointer finger on her chin. “Nope.”

“You didn’t even say I had _nice_ skin. Just that I _had_ it.” Rhys shook his head with a scowl that looked more like a pout. “You’re supposed to be the gifted liar, here.”

“What can I say? Even a professional has her limits; pretending that I find you attractive is one of mine.” Rhys made a noise of objection, but Fiona jabbed her finger in his face. “Anyway, _you_ were the creep, talking about my eyes like that.”

“I was being nice. That was a nice, normal answer, like a nice, normal couple would give, before you went all Silence of the Lambs—”

“It was disgusting. I don’t want to picture you _drowning_ in my _emerald pools_ ever again.”

“You know it’s fake, right? A con?” Rhys smirked at her, far too self-satisfied. “I was playing a role, and unlike you, not the role of someone who keeps human body-parts as trophies—”

Fiona snorted. “Yeah, sure, Casanova. Like Sasha hasn’t told me what a sappy freak you are.”

“She… what?” Rhys yelped, satisfaction evaporating in an instant. But he recovered quickly and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. _You_ asked _me_ to be your fake spouse—”

“Well, I can’t ask Sasha to be my wife, can I? It’s weird,” Fiona reasoned. “And Vaughn was busy.”

“I’m busy too! I’m restarting a company. I’m—” Then Rhys stopped walking for a half-second. “Wait. You... asked Vaughn first?” he asked, like it was a throwaway question of no importance to his pride, even as his pout became more pronounced.

“Yeah.” Fiona shrugged, barely giving it a thought. “Seemed more believable. You know, league-wise.”

“League-wise,” Rhys repeated dumbly.

“Sure. Like, there’s me and Vaughn—” she held out one hand to about shoulder height “—and then there’s you.” She lowered the hand to her hip.

It took exactly two seconds for Rhys’ pout to shift to something suspicious, and another two seconds for it to turn into a glare. “Ha ha.”

“I’m not kidding. He’s got abs. You’ve got… skin.”

“Yeah, well, you can find someone else with skin next time you need to pickpocket some couples’ therapist—”

“It wasn’t pickpocketing, it was larceny,” said Fiona haughtily. She reached into her jacket to produce the document in question, unfolding it with flair. “And if it really is a map to a hidden weapons storehouse, you’ll be thanking…” She stopped in her tracks. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” Rhys swung back the half-step to loom over her. “What’s _oh_?”

“Not a map.” She held up a handwritten schedule of the week. Rhys recognized his own name, written next to Fiona’s, in the day’s timeslot. Fiona frowned. “Must’ve grabbed the wrong document. Shit.” Then her expression turned innocent. “So…” She batted her eyes. “Same time next week, hubby?”

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on tumblr: [@oodlyenough](http://oodlyenough.tumblr.com/)


End file.
